Robber Bridegroom
by Crooked Mile
Summary: In the wake of the death of their parents, the Echizen brothers find a new home. Moving to a new place can be a scary thing; for Ryoma, however, the scariest thing may be his new neighbors... Thrill, RyogaMomo, Golden, Emerald


**A/N**: I actually have no defense for this one. What? _Within the Gilded Cage_?_ Achromatic Colors_? What? -_slams hands over ears_- I know nothing! XD To those of you who are fans of those, just be patient, please! My Writer's Block is particularly painful for both. This fic is my attempt to break them...

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Prince of Tennis.

**Warnings**: DARK, gory, violent/disturbing images, some inappropriate content.

**Pairings**: Thrill, Endurance, Golden, RyogaMomo (Take a moment to _let that sink in_.)

* * *

_**"There was once upon a time a miller, who had a beautiful daughter."**_

* * *

The apartment was small by normal standards, enough room for only one futon and a small kitchenette that was fused with the living room. The bathroom was set opposite of the only window: a toilet, sink, and shower crammed together in the diminutive space. There were no overhead lights, the only source of illumination being the window and the lamps that would soon be strewn all over the room. The tatami mats from years previous had been taken out just last year, replaced by hardwood flooring; the dark-colored planks shined back the light. The walls were a stark white, unwelcoming in every sense, but the large window offset the perturbing feeling.

Echizen Ryoma traced the marble counter of the kitchenette, looking over the stove and oven with a critical eye. He wasn't a gourmet but he knew he would be tasked with the creation of meals and most - if not _all_ - of the household chores, so he figured he'd better make sure everything was in order. There was a discoloration just under the microwave and the white tiles that served as the backdrop to the stove looked tinted grey by the smoke - but other than that, it all seemed to be in working order.

"The laundromat is in the basement," Ryuuzaki Sumire, the apartment building's landowner, stated. "There are four washers and four dryers, though most tenants prefer to hang dry their belongings." She motioned to the wire rack set on the outside of the window.

Ryoga nodded in understanding, one hand idly fiddling with the set of three keys in his hand. Most of their belongings were already present; boxes lined the wall nearest to the door and two rolled up futons sat in the small section dedicated to sleeping. The area was parted off by narrowing walls while holes marred the plaster in the ceiling, evidence as to where the curtain would be hung. The older male glanced at his brother with a smirk.

"You're getting the small one," he said with utmost certainty, indicating to the futons.

Ryoma scowled but he had already resigned himself to that fate before-hand. Instead of replying - and ignoring Ryuuzaki's small chuckle - he moved over to the pet carrier. Karupin meowed loudly as he freed her from her confines and she hopped out, starting to paw around the room.

Ryoga sighed before politely thanking the elderly woman and bowing as she left. It had been difficult to find a home that fit their needs; Ryoma had adamantly refused to be separated from his damn cat and Ryoga couldn't afford any of the more respectable establishments. He was well aware that this particular apartment complex wasn't exactly set in the best area, but the price had been cheap and they allowed pets. Still, with their limited budget, he could only afford a one-person room but he prided himself in the fact that both he and his younger brother were very adaptable.

Their parents' death had been unexpected - but that's usually how most deaths are. It was an anticlimactic end; Echizen Nanjiroh and Rinko were killed instantly in a hit-and-run. Both adults had never seen fit to getting life insurance and debts combined with funeral expenses had dwindled down the boys' inheritance to practically nothing. Ryoga was holding down a job as a bartender, but the new responsibility of caring for his younger brother had forced him to get a second job (construction). Ryoma - in his own antisocial way - had offered to get a job himself but Ryoga had objected and made sure his brother kept up with his studies instead. _Someone_ had to graduate from high school.

"Let's unpack the kitchen things first, then we can greet our neighbors!" Ryoga said, already heading for the box labeled 'pantry goods'. Karupin meowed from where she had settled herself atop the box labeled 'Ryoga's goods'. Giving the feline a cross look, Ryoga went ignored by his sibling as Ryoma started unloading the pots and pans from another box.

Close to an hour later they had finished what was necessary to unpack; lights hung along the walls (Christmas lights, but hey, they didn't claim to be picky), a few lamps settled in the corners. Ryoga's futon was laid out in the bed section while Ryoma's futon was laid next to the window, the head parallel to the frame. All of their food and kitchen utensils had been unpacked and stowed away, along with the large pillow that comprised of Karupin's bedding. The cat's litterbox had been shoved into the small linen closet near the kitchenette and they left the door open for Karupin to enter at her leisure.

* * *

_**"He thought, if any good suitor comes and asks for her, I will give her to him."**_

* * *

"Let's start the greeting!" Ryoga cheered.

Ryoma rolled his eyes. "Do it yourself. I'm going to make lunch."

Before the youth could make his way over to the stove, Ryoga grabbed him and proceeded to drag him out the door. Mouthy protests degenerated into grumbled insults as Ryoga tugged his brother along to their nearest neighbor, and the younger boy was silenced as Ryoga pressed the doorbell to room 304.

The apartment complex was a small building, only three stories tall with about four rooms to a floor, and a basement. The majority of the first floor served as the welcoming area and Ryuuzaki's personal rooms, leaving only eight rooms open to tenants. All of the second floor's rooms had tenants, though one room remained open on the third floor. The room across and adjacent to the Echizen's room were occupied, leaving the room next to them the only one empty.

There was the telltale clicking of a lock being unfastened - as well as a few small clunks of deadbolts being pulled back - before the door opened to admit a smiling man into view. He had a strange haircut - close-cut black hair with two protruding bangs looming over his forehead - but his green eyes and smile were warm and amiable. He was dressed in casual jeans and a white sweater; he looked much more professional than Ryoga, at any rate, though he looked younger.

"Hello! You must be the new neighbors," the man greeted, glancing over the two. Ryoga nodded before the two bowed - Ryoma doing so without so much a twitch in expression. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I am Echizen Ryoga and this is my little brother, Ryoma. We don't mean to intrude but thank you for welcoming us," Ryoga said formally. The manner in which he spoke was casual, though; a testament of his long stay in the States.

Their neighbor gave a small bow back. "Pleasure to meet you. I am Oishi Syuuichirou," Oishi glanced back into his apartment. "Eiji! Come greet the new neighbors!" he called out.

A redhead bounded into view, Oishi stepping back to allow the exuberant boy more room. "Hi! I'm Kikumaru Eiji, pleasure to meet you, nya!" the boy said, scanning over Ryoga before his eyes alighted on Ryoma. Blue eyes seemed to gleam excitedly under the red fringe. "Unyaa, how cute, how cute! Oishi, look!" he pointed ecstatically at Ryoma. "He's so cute! I'm going to call him Ochibi!"

Ryoma's gaze turned flat as Ryoga burst into laughter.

Oishi sighed and, if anything, this looked to be a normal occurrence to the man. "Eiji, it's rude to point. This is Echizen Ryoga and his brother, Ryoma."

"Soooo cu~ute!"

"_Eiji!"_

Ryoga's laughter subsided, though a chuckle erupted every now and then. "Don't worry about it, Oishi-san. Chibisuke likes the attention!" The glare Ryoma directed at his older brother clearly countered the claim.

The pair was more than friendly enough and had almost gotten the two brothers to join them for some lunch but Ryoga had to decline, citing they still had others to greet. Oishi said they were welcome to come over any time; Oishi was working on a degree in medicine but Eiji was unemployed and usually at home. According to the redhead, he didn't mind someone as cute as "Ochibi" coming over to play some video games, either.

* * *

**_"Not long afterwards, a suitor came..."_**

* * *

There was only one person who lived in the apartment next to Oishi and Kikumaru; he was a smiling brunette with a rather feminine appearance. Ryoga had flirted shamelessly-and had been replied to in kind-but Ryoma couldn't shake the feeling that the other man was not as easy as he looked. Fuji Syuusuke had been just as polite and nice as his neighbors, but there was something different about him; his eyes had remained closed during his and Ryoga's interaction but Ryoma swore he saw sapphire eyes on him for just a brief moment.

The second floor held five tenants in total; room 200 was occupied by a rather stern-looking man by the name of Tezuka Kunimitsu. He had been nothing but polite to the two brothers and Ryoga had managed to squeeze enough conversation out of the younger male to learn he played tennis for a hobby - as he spent most of his time at college earning a teaching degree. After Tezuka offered to play a friendly match with Ryoma next Saturday, the pair moved on to room 204.

A rambunctious youth lived in this one, pretty much waving off the formalities and entering a casual friendship with the two. Momoshiro Takeshi greeted them in nothing more than a pair of sweatpants and Ryoga spent an inordinate amount of time admiring the view of the younger man's abs. Ryoma was forced to do introductions at that time, as Momoshirou spent an inordinate amount of time showing off his abs.

"You guys can call me Momo, though," the younger male said cheerfully. "Everyone else around here does, at any rate."

He flashed a grin at Ryoma, "You can call me Momo-chan!"

Ryoma glared, the look only darkening at Ryoga's chuckles. His brother had been more than happy to recall their previous visits to the spiky-haired tenant, and Kikumaru's despicable nickname for the younger was easily taken on by Momo. Momo was taking classes at the same school as Tezuka, majoring in Japanese Literature.

"Come over whenever you want." This was given to both boys, but the gaze directed at Ryoga was more lusty than friendly. Ryoga grinned back.

In the apartment across from Momo's lived another pair. Inui Sadaharu reminded Ryoma more of a mad scientist and both Echizens had felt threatened by the offer of drinks. As far as they knew, juice wasn't supposed to _glow like that_. Rescue came in the form of one Kaidoh Kaoru; the male looked mildly threatening on his own but he was more than polite. Both we're going to college, Inui majoring in physical education while Kaidoh opted for kindergarten education.

Next to the pair lived Kawamura Takashi, a sushi chef-in-training. He was taking a food preparation course nearby, though he said once he's done he plans on taking over his dad's sushi restaurant (which was several blocks away). He gave them sushi as a welcoming gift - thereby taking care of lunch - and the two went back to their room to further unpack.

"Seems like we have some fun neighbors," Ryoga commented. Ryoma chose to ignore him - the other was probably thinking of Momo, anyway - scattering about Karupin's toys while sitting on his futon. Dinner had come and gone - some instant ramen Ryoma had heated up.

"Be good, chibisuke."

"...Whatever."

* * *

_**"The maiden, however, did not like him so much **__**as a girl should like the man to whom she is engaged."**_

* * *

Settling into his new life had been easier than Ryoma expected. His new high school wasn't so bad, though the tennis club was a joke. He managed to make some friends - a loose term used to define his relationship with the few peers he tolerated - but they only really talked in school. Ryoma discovered he got along a great deal more with the other tenants of the apartment complex.

He was pretty close to both Kikumaru and Momo, as both often came over or dragged him elsewhere. Oishi served almost as a surrogate mother; he often gave the two brothers food that just happened to be "leftovers" and spent an unhealthy amount of time fretting over everyone in the apartment complex. Inui acted as some sort of monitoring device, devising schedules that best worked for them ("Ryoga-san should spend his lunch hour at the nearest deli if he wants to keep up his stamina.") and continued to offer his poisonous juices. Kawamura was happy to have the two over to try his latest batch of sushi for evaluation. Kaidoh and Tezuka were more than happy to play tennis with Ryoma, the former acting as a second brother while the latter acted as the stern father-figure of the apartment complex.

The two Echizen's came with their own special sort of skills. Ryoga was quite the handyman and offered his assistance to all of his neighbors. (Both Kawamura and Momo had taken up his offer, though for very different reasons.) Ryoma, for lack of a better term, was the greatest distraction; he became everyone's "bratty little brother" and the youngest member of the Ryuuzaki Apartments had to fend off storms of affection nearly every day.

Fuji Syuusuke, on the other hand, held a different relationship.

To Ryoga, the pretty young man was a fun conversational partner that got his little brother more riled up than anyone else. Ryoga never considered staging anything romantic or even sexual with Fuji, however; his attentions were focused solely on Momo. Fuji understood this somehow - though it's likely Momo was blabbing about it everywhere and to everyone - and never went further than verbal flirtation.

To Ryoma, Fuji Syuusuke was...something else.

* * *

_**"Whenever she thought of him, she felt a secret horror."**_

* * *

Karupin was being difficult today. Her toys had started to bore her and she spent a great deal of time pawing around Ryoma dizzily, meowing loudly in what could only be complaint. The apartment was much smaller than the house their family had previous but there wasn't much Ryoma could do about that. Ryoga worked odd hours day and night so the older male wasn't present for Karupin to pester.

"Karupin," Ryoma sighed, putting down her toy when she only stared at him. She had already finished her lunch as well as her late afternoon lap; if Ryoma had to guess, he believed she was restless.

He needed to get out of the room before she drove _him_ crazy. Hopefully she'd settle down for a nap; perhaps he could go out and buy her a few new toys. They ought to keep her entertained for at least another week. The youth skirted around his mewling feline, opening the door - just as Karupin took the opportunity to dash right out.

Golden eyes widened in panic.

"Karupin! No! Get back in!" Ryoma called, giving chase to his cat.

Turning the corner, he spied a bushy tail near the stairs right before he ran straight into Momo. Colliding with a low thud, the older boy was sent back a few steps for stabilization while Ryoma was knocked down on his arse.

"Ouch! _Mou_, Ochibi, what was that for?" Momo whined, rubbing his chest as if he were actually wounded.

"Don't call me that!" Ryoma snapped reflexively, standing up and dashing down the stairs, ignoring Momo's mutter of "Kids these days!"

This time, he stopped himself just before ramming into another obstacle.

Sapphire eyes slid closed.

"This must be your cat, ne, Ryoma-kun?"

Fuji was smiling at him, a purring Karupin cradled in his arms. Ryoma blinked, glaring at his traitorous cat before turning his gaze to the older male. Fuji Syuusuke got along well with his brother - so much so that Ryoma wondered if he'd have to worry about threesome action in the future - while he and Fuji never really talked. Despite this, however, Ryoma often found himself in Fuji's attention. He didn't know when he'd started to notice; the feeling of a stare on him, the strange quirk to the brunette's lips in the moments they talked, the lilting purr when he called Ryoma's name. A million different little things that brewed a subtle sense of foreboding.

Ryoma nodded just as he spotted the thin trail of blood across the effeminate man's arm. Fuji followed his gaze, smile turning a tad sheepish. "Ah, that," Fuji chuckled. "I'm afraid I startled her when I caught her. She gave me a swipe before I could calm her down. It's nothing serious, though," he waved off.

Ryoma frowned. "I'm sorry. Come with me, we have some bandages." The younger boy turned, starting back up the stairs. Sure enough, Fuji's soft footfalls echoed behind him.

"She scratches 'nii-san a lot, anyway." Fuji's low chuckles were the response to that off-hand bit.

Fuji sat on Ryoma's futon as the younger boy got the First-Aid kit from the bathroom. There weren't many places to sit in the Echizen household; the area where they ate was nothing more than a plastic tablecloth settled on the floor like an indoor picnic blanket and there were no couches - they only had a small TV which was hoisted onto a wall.

"You sleep here, Ryoma-kun?" Fuji asked idly, grasping the sheets to bring them closer to his face. Open sapphire eyes stared straight into their golden counterparts as Ryoma emerged from the bathroom, medical kit in hand. Fuji's small smile almost seemed to be turning into a smirk. "It smells like you."

The younger boy half-heartedly shrugged, pretending the older boy's intense attention wasn't affecting him. Fuji obediently held out his arm as Ryoma proceeded to clean and bandage the minor cut. The other male's eyes had closed once again but his undivided attention still sent little shivers down Ryoma's spine that the younger boy refused to acknowledge.

Bandages in place (three were needed), Ryoma tossed the Band-Aids back into the first-aid kit. Golden eyes narrowed at the sight of his fingers, the top of his index finger stained slightly with the smeared blood of the older male. Making a move to stand back up, he was unprepared for a pale hand to snake out and snap around his wrist, impeding his movements and almost sending him back down to the floor in an ungraceful heap.

"Fuji-san-" Ryoma growled, annoyed at the abrupt physical action - but was cut off by a smooth chuckle.

"There's really no need to be so formal, Ryoma-kun." Blue eyes peered out from under long lashes. "After all, I've been over here often enough, haven't I?"

Ryoma was given no chance to reply as Fuji took the blood-stained finger into his mouth.

Electricity shot through him, freezing his body in place as his eyes remained fastened to that deceivingly angelic face: half-lidded blue eyes peered up at him from under a chestnut fringe, supple lips and a warm tongue working at his finger with wholehearted attention. Ryoma felt choked for breath, heat flaring through his body at an alarming rate as suddenly every nerve was picking up at the warm - _and clearly seductive _- work being done along the smallest patch of skin.

Almost frantically, the younger boy pulled his finger back, looking to almost cradle it as if it were wounded. Fuji was one step ahead, pressing forward with predatorial grace and practically forcing Ryoma to the floor to stare up at him with wide eyes. There were the barest hints of a smile dancing on the older male's lips as he - far too slowly, to Ryoma's cloudy mind - lowered his head, brushing Ryoma' mouth with his own. For one hazy moment, Ryoma honestly believed Fuji would pull away with a sunny smile and claim it all to be a joke - but the idea was quickly trashed when soft lips settled incessantly on his own pair.

Sensation shot through Ryoma like bullets. Sinewy legs straddled his hips, a casual brush of touch that still made his head swim. One hand was clasped loosely around his wrist, holding out his arm at a comfortable angle while another was tilting his chin upwards for Fuji's mouth to fit more intimately with his own. A tongue was sliding along the interior of his mouth, warm and foreign, as a mix of cinnamon and something distinctly unique to the male above him idled with his tastebuds.

Fuji withdrew, hovering over the other boy while absently brushing the back of his hand across his lips, getting rid of the bare traces of saliva. Ryoma looked to be calming himself down, eyes half-lidded as he relished breathing in through his mouth. A warm chuckle filtered out of Fuji's mouth; the man leaned forward to sprinkle kisses over Ryoma's face with a soft smile.

"What was that for?" Ryoma finally asked, inwardly flustered but looking remarkably calm.

Fuji hummed cheerfully, drawing his mouth over Ryoma's temple as if tasting it with nothing but his lips. "I should have hoped it was obvious."

Ryoma had no reply to that. He stared at the older boy who remained unperturbed by Ryoma's wholehearted attention. Fingers alighted up and down Ryoma's arm, goosebumps arising on his skin at the pleasurable contact.

"'Niisan will be home soon," Ryoma replied, looking right into sapphire eyes.

Fuji was amused. "I wouldn't count on that. He had just gone into Momo's place when I found Karupin."

There was a brief moment where Ryoma was surprised by the revelation - though he really didn't know why he felt so shocked, he had seen it coming, after all - followed by another uncomfortable revelation: Fuji and him were going to be alone. Possibly for hours.

Fuji laughed aloud at the younger boy's calm composure slowly slipping into nervousness.

"Don't worry, Ryoma-kun," Fuji comforted, standing up and helping Ryoma to his feet. "That was all I intended to do." _For today_, hung audibly in the air.

Ryoma scowled and looked away, mildly irritated he had been called out on his unease. Fuji's soft chortles were the only response to his sulking before the man headed towards the kitchenette, already rummaging expertly through the cabinets.

"I can make dinner for us tonight. You're always making the food, aren't you?"

Ryoma shrugged, inwardly refusing to feel even slightly pleased with the recognition.

Fuji smiled.

* * *

_**"Once he said to her, you are my betrothed, yet you have never once paid me a visit."**_

* * *

It was the sound of the door opening that woke Ryoma up, the soft click of a lock latching into place as shoes stepped across the room. A lamp was lit, the light dim enough as to not reach Ryoma's futon but enough to illuminate the lithe torso of Ryoga as he peeled off his construction uniform. There was a tired, grimy sort of look to him, but it was belied by the small grin on his lips.

Ryoma wondered at the reason before he saw what looked to be a hickey at the junction of his older brother's neck and shoulder. If Ryoma were the type given to blushing, he surely would have; instead he averted his eyes elsewhere, burrowing more under his thick covers. Ryoga turned at the noise, amber eyes practically glowing in the light's reflection, his small grin morphing into a warm smile.

"Still awake, chibisuke?"

Ryoga's voice was low and soothing, in the off-chance the younger boy was merely tossing in his sleep. Ryoma entertained the thought of feigning sleep only briefly before pulling his covers down for a better view.

"Yeah."

Ryoga pulled on a plain white shirt, followed by a pair of dark blue pajama pants. Ruffling his hair absently, the older male trotted over to the bed of his younger sibling, sitting down on the floor right next to him.

"Fujiko come over for dinner again?" he asked conversationally, an innocuous tone insinuated along the idle question. Ryoma only glared at him, the small smirk on the older man's lips enough of an indication as to what he really thought.

"You're later than usual. Did Momo hijack you on the way up?"

Silence elapsed as the brothers stared at each other challengingly before Ryoga abruptly burst into laughter.

"That interested in your 'nii-chan's love life, chibisuke?" Ryoga leaned down, smirk drawing out to vindictive proportions. "That's voyeurism, you know."

"Pervert!" Ryoma hissed, embarrassed despite himself.

Ryoga laughed heartily, standing up and making his way back over to his own bed. He paused right before it, looking contemplative.

"Chibisuke...I quit my bartending job."

Ryoma sat up in bed, staring at his older brother's back calculatively. He wasn't disappointed or anything of the sort; truth be told, Ryoma almost felt relieved. Ryoga had to have been working three jobs up to that point and the younger boy feared that one day, Ryoga would just collapse. Ryoma knew their income was important, knew how much they treaded on that fine line between comfort and poverty; but still, Ryoga refused to allow the younger boy to get a job in order to help.

_"You need to finish school,"_ Ryoga had said decisively. _"Then you can get your first job once you start college."_

Sometimes, Ryoma wondered when Ryoga had ceased being a brother in order to play at being a father.

"I got another job, though!" This time, Ryoga turned around to grin at him. "A real good one, too; Momo introduced me to it. Pays well, and the hours are shorter than when I was a bartender." He almost started to fidget. "I should be able to make it for dinner, now, too. We can start eating together... maybe invite both Momo and Fujiko..."

Ryoma stared, snorted, then turned around and buried himself under the covers.

Ryoga just grinned - he knew Ryoma well enough to tell the boy was pleased.

* * *

_**"Next Sunday you must come out there to meet me."**_

* * *

"And then- And then- Do you know what happened next?" Kikumaru bounced excitedly, a wide grin splitting his lips as he glanced between his two companions in unbridled cheer. "He _ate_ him. Just like _that_!" the redhead snapped his fingers as if to illustrate his point.

Momo gaped at him. "You're _kidding_. No way." From anyone else, that would have sounded sarcastic; from Momo, it was nothing but sincere shock. "How could he eat it? What kind sicko eats the _head _of a _bat_?"

Ryoma twitched, inwardly cursing his upbringing in America.

The trio was headed back up to Kikumaru's apartment, having eaten lunch together at the local burger joint. They went there practically every other day -much to the disgust/annoyance of their significant others - then spent any of their free time playing video games or otherwise bothering each other. Ryoma had lost count of the number of times when they had gotten bored of games and attempted to wrestle him 'with affection'.

"I wanna play that new RPG you got, Eiji. The one with the sky pirate," Momo said, tramping up the steps at a faster pace.

Kikumaru pouted. "No way, Momo! Let's play that tournament fighter one. This way two can play at a time."

The two continued to squabble about it up the steps, looking more involved in their minor argument than their surroundings. They unintentionally ignored Kawamura, as immersed as they were, though Ryoma made sure to give the sushi chef a small bow in greeting.

Kawamura acknowledged him back in kind, a small smile on his face before he turned back to his own companion. A girl of moderate height looked at the three passing boys in modest curiosity, brown eyes set in an attractive but rather common face. She wore a knee-length brown skirt, set in contrast with a pretty but humble white blouse, dipped at the center to showcase her slim neck and collarbone. Her hair reached her shoulders in soft waves, her bangs parted to the side, the longer strands held fastened to the side by a white begonia clip.

"I didn't know Taka-san had a girlfriend," Ryoma muttered, almost to himself - but his two companions heard.

Momo grinned back down at him. "Taka-san may not act like it, but he's pretty popular with the girls."

"It's keeping a steady one that's the hard part," Kikumaru giggled. "I bet she won't last a week."

If Ryoma hadn't gotten to known his fellow neighbors so well, he would have been left guessing. While Kawamura was both genuinely kind and humble, an excitable - if not slightly violent - persona hid under the calm temperament, only emerging when the older man held a racket. It was likely Kawamura reacted to more than just a tennis racket but at the very least he remained calm when he held a knife. Sometimes Ryoma thought the man would accidentally cut off his own hand if he ever got into "burning" mode while cooking.

"C'mon, hurry! I want to kick Momo's ass!" Kikumaru whooped, dashing into his apartment, his two companions behind him.

* * *

The loud hum of washers and dryers drummed through the air of the basement, loud in its multitude but easily fading into nothing but background noise at the constant stream. Tile lined the floor, scratched and worn with age and wear but clean nonetheless. Lights hung from the ceiling, beaming down incessantly with the slightest shade of a flicker every now and then.

A drowned blue laundry basket sat at Ryoma's feet, filled only to the halfway with clothes. Rifling out the darks from the lights was easy enough, though Ryoma had been known to flood the laundry room a few times. (He had no idea why doing laundry had to be so _complicated_.) The others had actually found it funny, with Kikumaru and Momo sliding around giddily as Oishi fretted on the side. Tezuka and Inui had taken it upon themselves to teach Ryoma how to properly use the washing machine and dryer.

The door creaked open and Ryoma glanced over to see Kawamura amble inside, one hand on a white laundry basket to hold it up to his hip.

"Ah, Ryoma-kun!" Kawamura greeted cheerily, settling his own burden down near the other. "Laundry day for you as well?"

Ryoma nodded. Just because Ryoga's newest job meant he didn't have to work such long hours didn't mean he was any cleaner. His construction job was the worst, requiring lengthy cleaning of dirt and grime, while his waiter uniform came in second with accidental stains. With the bartender job dropped, it was the third job that remained both the cleanest and most mysterious. Ryoma kept forgetting to ask Ryoga the details of his newest job; for all he knew, Ryoga could be prostituting himself.

He seriously hoped he wasn't. That would make Momo the pimp, after all.

"Oh, by the way, I made an extra sushi platter for you and Ryoga-san," Kawamura started conversationally, throwing his lighter colors into the washer. "Do you want me to drop it off after I'm done here?"

"I can pick it up-"

"No need! I don't mind," Kawamura interrupted kindly. "You and Ryoga-san are nice enough to try out my food so I don't mind dropping off the samples myself."

Ryoma snorted good-naturedly. "We're practically living off your food, Taka-san. I think we need you a lot more than you need us."

"_Ehh_?" came the loud proclamation from the doorway. The duo turned just as Kikumaru entered, carrying his own laundry in. The redhead was eyeing Ryoma with over-dramatized concern and the younger male was certain the only thing keeping the redhead from glomping him was the navy blue laundry basket in his hands.

"Ochibi and Ryo-san have nothing to eat?" the redhead demanded, scandalized.

Ryoma almost glared. "We eat. I eat burgers with you and Momo, and 'niichan mooches off his own coworkers." Not to mention Kawamura's sushi platters, given at least once a week, as well as the slew of health bars and questionable juices via Kaidoh and Inui. Fuji treated Ryoma often enough and Ryoma was sure Momo did the same with Ryoga; if not, Tezuka had been known to take the two out for a meal, if only for some decent, less-hyperactive company. (As they had learned, having gone on a group outing with their neighbors once; they weren't allowed in three different restaurants, a supermarket, and a nearby park anymore as a result.)

"You only buy enough food for your cat?" Kawamura asked, also sounding disturbed.

Ryoma recognized a warning sign when he saw one. "We get snacks, too." If you could call the case of grape ponta with a few water bottles and energy drinks 'snacks'. They had some chips and cookies as well, but when it came down to it the Echizen brothers either ate out or accepted food from their friends. Ryoma could cook some meals but more often than not Ryoga whisked his brother out the door for some food.

"And vegetables," Ryoma added on, unnerved at the silence he received. They just had some beansprouts, actually, and that was only because the local market was having a sale on them and he could get them cheaply. There was no need for the other two to know that, though.

Neither Kawamura nor Kikumaru looked convinced. In fact, it didn't seem either had even heard him; they looked so stricken that words no longer penetrated their brains. For a moment, Ryoma almost felt like panicking; he _broke _them. Oishi would never forgive him. Hell, Ryoga wouldn't forgive him for breaking a food source.

"Unyaa, why didn't Ryo-san tell us? We could give him some food!" Kikumaru abruptly started whining.

Ryoma's "_We're fine_!" was drowned out by Kawamura's vehement agreement.

A small clatter of metal on tile interrupted the trio's agitated discussion, and Ryoma looked down to see a white begonia clip lying on the floor. It took a moment for him to remember where he had seen it before, then he looked up into the surprised face of Kawamura.

"Isn't that your girlfriend's...?" Ryoma pointed out.

"A-Aa,"Kawamura agreed, picking it up and hastily shoving it into his pocket. "Ex-girlfriend, actually. She...kind of threw it at me when we broke up." the chef laughed self-consciously. "I got it for her as a gift..." he absently explained.

Kikumaru and Ryoma glanced at each other, Kawamura being lost in his own world. They weren't exactly the greatest at comforting - with Kikumaru having been in a relationship with Oishi ever since their middle school days and they were still going strong, as well as with Ryoma having zero experience in things like romance - so they could only stand around awkwardly.

"...Told you she wouldn't last more than a week," Kikumaru finally muttered.

Ryoma and Kawamura stared at the redhead, the former blank and the latter scandalized.

"_Eiji!" _Kawamura whined.

"Well she didn't!"

* * *

_**"I will strew ashes in order that you may find your way through the forest."**_

* * *

"Tattled on me, did you, chibisuke?"

The complaint was audible but it lacked any real bite. In fact, it sounded more amused than anything else; this was the reason Ryoma found it safe to look up as his brother entered the apartment. Ryoga affected a mock-scowl for only a moment before breaking out into a small grin, plopping down a paper-wrapped object onto the counter. It made dull, squishy thud - meat of some sort, most likely. Ryoma evaluated it quickly; it was enough meat to last them the whole damn week.

"Where did you get that?" Ryoma asked, though he felt he already knew the answer.

Ryoga snorted, no doubt only humoring the younger boy at this point by answering: "From Tezuka-kun."

He threw his jacket down onto the back of a chair. They had further furnished their home with a four-person table and matching chairs - courtesy of their concerned cousin Nanako - as well as a bookcase and armchair. The bookcase was second-hand from one of Fuji's acquaintances and the armchair had been purged from Kaidoh when the viper-like male had said he and Inui didn't have any more room for it in their place.

"Oishi-kun and Eiji-kun will be dropping by with - no doubt -"leftover" vegetables, and Taka-san claims he has another sushi platter he wants us to try," Ryoga chuckled lightly, shaking his head as he threw himself back into the armchair. "I managed to decline Inui-kun's kind offer of juices and convince Fuji that we don't need any snacks, especially those of the wasabi-flavored variety."

Ryoma's face twisted into a small grimace at the mention of his boyfriend's eccentric taste in food. Hell, Fuji had an eccentric taste for everything - food, beverage, _and _men, Ryoga had claimed. (Right before Ryoma launched a tennis ball at his head, practically knocking the older male into danger of a concussion.)

"I _told _them we eat just fine," Ryoma grumbled, though he wasn't exactly displeased. After all, it would be easier to wheedle free burgers from Kikumaru and Momo now. The high school student wasn't above taking advantage of a situation.

Ryoma went over to the counter, unwrapping the meat to see what he could make of it. Peering at it, it looked to be only bloodied flesh - pounds of it, indistinguishable. "Is this pork?"

Ryoga shrugged. "Probably. Who cares as long as its edible?"

Ryoma rolled his eyes. "Then why don't I make you a stew of pig and fish eyeballs and see how you enjoy it?"

"Oi oi!" Ryoga gruffed, grabbing his brother into a rough headlock. "Don't be snarky, ne, chibisuke? Or maybe I should call you _o_-_chi-bi_?"

"Shutup!"

* * *

_**"The maiden became very uneasy, she herself knew not exactly why, and to mark her way she filled both her pockets full of peas and lentils."**_

* * *

Fuji's apartment was kept organized, giving structure and order to what could be loosely termed as chaos. His kitchen table, made of a wood of light color, was covered with rolls of film and folders full of self-developed pictures. Barstools lined the counter that separated the kitchenette from the living room, pots of cacti lining empty counter space, shelves, and windowsills alike. His futon had been left undone, pale cream in color with a thick comforter of dark blue lying across it. The sleeping area was separated by white curtains currently tied back, the area inside only illuminated by the sunlight that came in through the windows.

A small sofa was pressed against the window - which had bleached blinds currently left open - with a television set on the opposite wall sitting on a wooden table with open shelves lined by even more cacti. A desk was tucked away in the furthest corner, paper piled on top with a small scattering of pens and pencil. An electronic clock sat atop the highest perch, glowing red numbers glaring at the entire breadth of the apartment.

Ryoma glanced over the photos visible on the table; some were of nature, like sunlight shining through the cherry blossom trees or bare trees that lined a decrepit shrine. Others were of Tokyo itself - in both daylight and the starlit night. A few were of people, such as children playing in the park, an elderly couple sitting next to each other on the subway, a group of teens playing games at an arcade.

"What is it that you do?" Ryoma asked, shifting through the pictures. He had never asked Fuji about his job - he supposed he never felt the need to.

Fuji looked up from where he had been adjusting the blinds. "I'm a freelance photographer," the older male replied, stepping away from the controlling cord in satisfaction. "I mostly do photos for local magazines and fashion ads, but I'm not too fond of holding down a desk job."

Ryoma grunted in understanding, his attention pulled away from the photographs as pale hands slid down his torso to rest on his hips.

"So what am I doing here again?" Ryoma asked blandly as the pale hands crossed over his abdomen to hold him in a loose embrace. "Other than to escape my homework."

"You mean the homework you already finished?" Fuji murmured against his neck, amusement coloring his words.

Ryoma chose not to reply to that.

"I feel I need some...inspiration, you could say," Fuji continued on lightly, drawing the younger boy back. Backward steps landed them right in front of the bed before Fuji slipped around to face the boy, pushing Ryoma down to sit on the futon.

"Inspiration?" Clear suspicion lined the echo.

Fuji's smile was disarming - which pretty much asserted the idea of an ulterior motive. Ryoma scowled, pretending he wasn't feeling anxious or self-conscious as Fuji picked up a camera from the table.

"Don't most people go visit the mountains or Tokyo Tower for inspiration?" Ryoma asked as Fuji meandered back over to him, coming down on his knees to reach out one pale hand to trace Ryoma's collarbone.

"I suppose I'm not most people," Fuji allowed with a sly smile, his hand dipping under Ryoma's shirt, surfacing long enough to undo all the buttons keeping it closed. Ryoma's hands remained limp at his sides though the younger boy could not calm his hitching breath when the hand slid under his shirt to caress his chest.

There was the soft click of a camera shutter. Ryoma's half-lidded eyes snapped open but any protest of his was cut off by Fuji leaning down to capture his mouth into a searing kiss. This one was more savage than the others ones they had shared; a mesh of tongue and teeth that sent pleasure spiking through his body, leaving tingles for the aftertaste.

Fuji withdrew long enough to fiddle with his camera, setting it atop the side-table next to the bed set at an angle to snap photos of the entire breadth of the futon. Once finished, the older male turned his attention back to the other boy on his bed. Ryoma allowed himself to be pushed down, Fuji taking the chance to straddle his hips and lean down for another kiss. Hands danced over Ryoma's flesh, the high school senior winding his arms around Fuji's neck to pull the man closer. The camera gave an automated click.

"You're taking pictures?" Ryoma asked breathily as Fuji trailed kisses across his jaw and down his throat.

Fuji's low chuckle met his question.

"...Pervert."

* * *

"Hm?" Ryoga wondered aloud from where he had collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs. "What are these pictures?"

Ryoma snapped the folder away before his older brother could reach it, blushing hotly as he stalked over to his own bed. Momo snickered at Ryoga's side, and Ryoma could not shake the feeling that both boys somehow knew what kind of pictures he was carting around. Ryoma spared a moment to lament over the fact that his boyfriend was a complete pervert. A pervert with a _camera_.

The couple at the table elapsed into a silence, but seeing as Ryoma had his back to them - stuffing the folder of ambiguous content under his futon - they could just be making out. Ryoga seemed to be the exhibitionist type anyway.

"I'm going out," Ryoma called out, moving over to the door with a more hurried step when he heard a low moan behind him.

Closing the apartment door behind him, Ryoma spent a moment wondering where he should go next. Fuji was out on a job; Oishi and Kikumaru were out on a date. Tezuka was at school working on an essay and Kawamura was helping out at his father's restaurant. Ryoma didn't really want to know what Inui and Kaidoh were doing, having been advised by Momo to "stay clear" of the couple's apartment.

Heading further downstairs, the high school student figured he could get his laundry. Fuji had given him the extra key to his apartment, so he'd finish up his chore in there and then devour his boyfriend's food stores. Ryoma didn't want to chance going back into his apartment any time soon; he knew for a fact that Ryoga and Momo had outstanding stamina.

Cringing a little at the mental images, Ryoma hurriedly pulled his laundry from the dryer. Warmth stung at his hands as he pulled heated cloth from the confines of their metal prison, the scent of lilacs - fortunately, Oishi supplied them all with dryer sheets; unfortunately, said dryer sheets were usually of the flower-scented variety - drifting out.

Ryoma was almost so wholly-focused on his task and inwardly cursing Oishi's strangely intense maternal-instincts that he would have missed it, had it not been for the 100-yen coin falling out and rolling away. The chime of metal on tile had caught his attention, golden eyes inevitably drawn to the rolling piece of shining metal as it ran across the flooring. It hit the wall with a small clang, stopping and abruptly falling into place.

Ryoma _glared_. Setting his basket back down on the floor, he made his way over to the errant piece of monetary value. Bending down and reaching for it, he blinked as he pulled it away; it had been situated amidst some drops and smears of crimson. The first thing that came to mind was paint but as far as Ryoma knew, no one in the apartment complex had taken to that particular art.

The second thing was blood. Ryoma wasn't going to take the chance and taste it, but he was almost certain that the drops were blood. It had probably dropped here hours previous to be able to coagulate as it had.

* * *

_**"Ashes were strewn at the entrance of the forest, and these she followed,"**_

* * *

_Mmmmhh!_

Ryoma's head snapped up and he stared in confusion at the wall. The sound was both high-pitched and muffled - coming from a girl, undoubtedly - but it was dim and weak, as if the one emitting the noise was hanging on the very dredges of consciousness. For a moment, Ryoma thought he had just imagined it, but it came again; it was weaker this time, a losing battle that dragged on into silence.

Ryoma glanced around the room for certainty's sake; the noise had come from in front of him. He followed the line of the border, eyes lying suspiciously on the dark gap between the flooring and the apparent wall. He had thought it merely old age at first, the inconsistency of the flooring - but what if it was something else?

Shelves lay nailed to the wall in front of him, dust and gardening tools lining the wooden planks. Ryoma placed the pots and small shovels aside and out of the way, and there in plain sight stood a keyhole; it was nestled between the last two shelves, having been blocked by small flower pots. Ryoma felt more nervous than before; it was obvious no one wanted this place to be found.

The sound of footsteps made him jump and freeze. Glancing around again, a paranoia threated to climb out of his throat spewing fire, Ryoma hurriedly put all of the supplies back. He practically skidded back to his place by his laundry basket, listening intently as sweat broke across his skin.

What was in that room? What was that noise?

* * *

_**"There stood a solitary house. She went inside it, but no one was within, and the most absolute stillness reigned."**_

* * *

These questions flooded Ryoma's mind even as the footsteps faded into the distance, the owner likely climbing the steps up to the floor above. For a moment, Ryoma seriously contemplated just going on his way - but Ryoma was no coward. He _needed_ to know at this point, what lay in that room hidden behind the shelves.

The keyhole was barely visible behind the polka-dotted flower pot. Ryoma fingered the hangar in his hand compulsively; his skills weren't limited to those on the tennis courts. He'd spent quite a bit of his childhood running around with a mischievous boy named Kevin Smith, and the blond had taught him quite a few tricks, most geared to breaking locks or hotwiring cars. (Why a ten-year-old knew how to hotwire vehicles, Ryoma had never asked.)

Less than a minute later, the click of the lock being forcibly unfastened seemed to echo in the laundry room. Ryoma threw the hangar back into the scattered pile in the corner with barely a glance, edging forward as he pushed the perceived wall open. It swung open slowly; it felt heavy against his palm, thick with wood and foam.

What lay inside was darkness. Ryoma slid his hand along the wall, fingers finally alighting upon a switch. Light came beaming down from the corners; they were similar to spotlights, wide and bright and all-encompassing. The room before him was flooded with light, revealing a cement floor of gray coloring. Two steel operating tables were laid out in the center, straps dangling at the sides with ill-intent. Further to the right was a couch, big enough for three people, set in a beige color made of faux-leather.

All of these, however, did not attract Ryoma's eyes.

Golden eyes remained transfixed to the very back of the room where the majority of the wall was merely wire gate, a padlock fastened against the door that lead deeper into the dimly-lit prison. A girl was bound by her wrists and ankles, dangling by a hook that held her by the rope around her wrists. It took only a moment for Ryoma to recognize her.

Kawamura's ex-girlfriend.

A flood of thoughts, deductions, and subsequent denials drowned Ryoma's thinking process, his body becoming still as his eyes refused to understand what it was that was happening before him. Fear and something horrifying gripped his heart, instinct forcing him back a step as fight-or-flight surged from within him along with adrenaline.

His frozen body forced his eyes to the bound figure. The girl was crying, her muffled sobs being what had drawn him into the room in the first place. Her struggling, however, was practically nonexistent; she hardly swayed as she dangled within her prison. She was drugged, most likely, or so weak from hunger and- _whatever_ had happened to her while in captivity that her physical abilities were waned to nothing.

Ryoma wasn't sure what had jolted his body back into motion: the shock that had finally faded enough to allow him movement or the fact that the girl's eyes had finally adjusted to the sudden lighting enough to notice his arrival.

Either way, he could still hear her renewed, muffled screaming as he pivoted and fled.

* * *

_**"Suddenly a voice cried, turn back, turn back, young maiden dear,**_

_**'tis a murderer's house you enter here!"**_

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry, my mind is still reeling on the whole Ryoga-is-doing-Momo thing. Despite the fact that _I_ wrote it. (XD)

_Please drop a review! Critiques very, very welcomed!_


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